Only Hope
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Chuck/Blair.. Based off of the movie, "Children of Men". The human race can no longer produce and faces extinction. The world is in a state of chaos. Hope may be on the horizon though when Blair finds out that she is pregnant. With Chuck's baby.
1. An Introduction to the Future

**Only Hope** by Lemonstar

_..Chuck/Blair.. Based off of the movie, "Children of Men". The human race can no longer produce and faces extinction. The world is in a state of chaos. Hope may be on the horizon though when Blair finds out that she is pregnant. With Chuck's baby._

..XX..

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"I can't really remember when I last had any hope, and I certainly can't remember when anyone else did either. Because really, since women stopped being able to have babies, what's left to hope for?"

- from the film, _Children of Men_.

* * *

..XX..

Chapter One – An Introduction to the Future

New York City, 2027

**T**here really wasn't a point in going outside anymore.

It was too unsafe, too uncertain outside. She stayed indoors at all time, watching the sun rise and set every morning and evening from the four walls of her bedroom in the apartment high rise that overlooked the once magnificent Central Park. She wasn't old enough to have seen it the way it used to be but apparently, according to her mother, it used to be one of the most beautiful and pristine parks in the world.

Now though, it was a wild jungle of twisted branches and snarls of foliage, growing wild and forgotten – like everything now.

The day seemed darker than usual. The head story everywhere in the world, and the only thing Blair Waldorf had heard since she had woken up, was the death of the youngest person in the world: fifteen-year-old Gregory Ricardo from Argentina. He had been stabbed in the midst of a mob when a fan had asked for his autograph. Fifteen years, four months, and ten days old. People stared, shocked, huddled around their television and radio sets, praying that it was all just a dream. The youngest person in the world had just died. The last baby to have ever been born was now dead.

Blair felt numb and she stood in the middle of her bedroom, listening to the grave news report as it was read over her clock radio on the nightstand next to her bed. Her heart felt like lead and she felt it slowly dropping towards her feet. She could hardly believe it.

Gregory Ricardo couldn't be dead. He was too important. Hadn't he known how important he was? Everyone else had. Why would he refuse someone an autograph when he knew how delicate and fragile people were now? Just give them what they want. Give them an autograph and be done with it! But no. He had to go get himself stabbed in a fit of anger instead.

Blair had never met the boy before but everyone knew him and as she listened to the broadcast over and over again about his demise, she felt tears stinging her eyes. What else? What could possibly happen next? The future had never looked more dismal than it did that morning.

There hadn't been a happy day in so long. Blair was eighteen-years-old and had been a mere toddler when the births had stopped. The only women to be pregnant were now found on television shows or in movies. It baffled every scientist and doctor on the planet. No one could figure it out or explain it to the millions of people who were beginning to panic. Women could no longer become pregnant and as the remaining babies in the world began to grow up, all hope disappeared with them.

Though there was no point in a daily routine, Blair stubbornly insisted with herself to keep one.

There had to be some sense of normalcy in her life and that morning, she repeated the same things she had done the previous morning and the morning before that. She stripped out of the silk chemise she wore to bed – which had once been beautiful and delicate but was now slowly falling apart each time she wore it – and then went to take a shower.

At least water hadn't been limited. There was no longer a population problem to worry about. Her parents remembered that before she was born, their had been global drought and scientists held the surge in population consuming the water supplies to be the cause. That seemed so long ago and almost an impossible concept to Blair. In her memories, there had never been a problem of too many people.

She patted her body dry and then wrapping the towel around her thin, pale body, she brushed her teeth and dried her hair. Routine. She lived her life by routines or else, she was afraid she would go insane. Locked away in her apartment like a princess kept for her entire life in a tower.

She felt the soft carpet underneath her bare feet as she went back into her bedroom, the radio still on, reporting on Gregory Ricardo's death and not wanting to listen to it anymore, she turned it off, the room falling into absolute silence.

Tightening the towel around her, she went to her window and looked out over the once great city of New York. Many of the buildings had fallen into ruin now, squatters seeking shelter occupying many of them now. Policemen and army units patrolled the streets in large masses – it being safer that way against the mobs – and there was a citywide curfew every night though it was impossible most of the time to enforce.

The world had taken on a shade of grey and even the sun seemed afraid to appear when it was supposed to now.

Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, she turned and saw a young man, perhaps a year or two older than her, enter. He was handsome with dark hair and eyes and defined cheek bones. His skin was pale and through his clothes, she saw a muscular build. Most men now were in shape – training themselves to be soldiers in these dangerous times. Men who could protect themselves had a longer life, not that living longer was exactly necessary anymore. What was there to live for?

"I'm assuming you're Blair," he said, stepping completely into the room and closing the door behind him. "Your mother was downstairs and said I could come up."

"Yes. I'm Blair. And you must be Chuck Bass," she said, tightening the towel even more around her though there was no need. He would see her naked soon enough.

It was a common practice amongst the remaining elitist families of the world to do this with their children. Most people who still had money either worked for the government or medical research labs – Blair's father working for the latter – and in hopes of discovering what was wrong with the human reproductive system, they would find men and women to have sex in hope, diminishing hope but hope all the same, that one of the women would become pregnant from these arranged trysts.

Every week, Blair met a different man that her father had picked out. She was much like a prostitute she supposed though she never got paid. The men were paid to have sex with her instead and her parents told her that she was not a whore but simply a young woman trying to help the human race.

"Nice to meet you," she said, stepping forward and holding her hand out to shake his. She did it with all of the men and she insisted on habit.

Chuck gave her the appraisal, looking her body up and down, an approving smirk spreading across his lips. "Very nice to meet you," he said then bent down and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

When the men looked at her as if she was a piece of meat they were about to devour, it normally made her stomach churn but something about this man, this… Chuck, doing it excited her for some completely unknown reason to her. She had certainly never felt that before.

"Did you hear about Gregory Ricardo?" Blair asked as he sat down in the chair at her vanity and began to take off his shoes. "It's horrible."

"Ricardo was a complete asshole," Chuck said, now pulling off his socks.

"I'm sure he was but it's still horrible," Blair said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Chuck stood up and Blair watched, her mouth going inexplicably dry, as he shrugged out of his coat and then tugged his shirts off over his head. He had a beautiful body.

"Is there anything in particular you like to do?" She asked, hoping to distract herself as he undressed in front of her. She sat down on the foot of her bed, crossing her legs, the towel riding up a bit, exposing her creamy smooth thighs.

She noticed that Chuck paused, his eyes locked on her skin and she felt a sudden warmth in the room. It felt extremely hot for some reason and she shifted slightly. His stare was too intense and she almost didn't feel comfortable, yet excitement began to bubble from within her.

"Is there," she paused to clear her throat, her tongue feeling dry. "Is there anything in particular that you like to do? I should probably know now so we can get you as aroused as possible."

He lifted an eyebrow at that but he didn't answer for a moment. Instead, he unbuttoned and unzipped the pair of blue jeans he wore, pushing them off. He now stood in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and Blair watched him closely as he looked around her large bedroom. He saw a worn copy of _Utopia_ by Sir Thomas More on her nightstand next to the clock radio and he smirked.

"What an ironic read," he commented and a smile twitched her lips. "A favorite?"

"My father was able to get a copy for me before they stopped publishing books," she said, watching him as he picked the worn and weathered book up, flipping through it. She stood up. "Would you like to get started? I have all day but I'm not sure what your schedule is."

Her hands went to her towel and was just about to drop it from her body to the floor but he went to her, stopping her, his hands covering hers. Blair tilted her head up to look at him, nearly gasping at the dark intensity she found in his eyes. No man had ever looked at her like that before. She couldn't be sure but it was almost as if Chuck Bass wanted her – not her body but her.

Of course, the thought was completely ludicrous. She had never seen or met Chuck Bass and he certainly didn't know anything about her to actually want her. For some reason, she seemed to be imaging things much more than usual.

"Do you kiss on the lips?" He asked her, his voice low and it spread over her body like a warm breeze, leaving goosebumps on her skin in its wake. "I know some women don't but-"

"I do if that is what you want," she said, automatically agreeing to anything as she was taught to do.

"Do _you_ want to kiss me?" He asked, his hands gently pushing hers away and his now stilling at the top of her towel, about to remove it from her body himself.

She stared at him for a moment, a lump in her throat and a knot tightening in her stomach. Before she realized she was, she nodded her head and one of his hands slid onto her cheek, cupping her face gently. His fingertips were rough against her smooth skin and she felt a delicious shiver tear down her spine at his first touch.

He tilted her head up and keeping his eyes locked with hers, he lowered his lips to hers – the first kiss gentle and soft, so light, Blair barely felt it. But then, she felt cold air surround her and she heard the quiet _whoosh_ of the towel falling to the floor. Chuck immediately wrapped both of his arms around her naked body and pulled her to him, kissing her harder, holding her tightly and Blair heard herself moan softly into his mouth. No man had ever gotten a moan from her before without her having to fake it.

Who was Chuck Bass and what was he doing to her? Besides making her feel absolutely wonderful.

Her hands went to his biceps, squeezing her fingers around them, feeling his muscles and holding onto him, and he squeezed her even tighter, pressing their bodies so closely together that not even a slip of air could get between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her lips before turning them both and gently guiding her onto the bed.

..XX..

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A/N: A very different approach to Chuck and Blair's love story but this idea has been in my head for a few days and I wanted to post the first chapter to see what people think of it. This will be a love story as well as an action sci-fi story. I hope a few of you are interested in reading it. It won't be the typical Chuck/Blair story but it will very much be a story about them and their relationship. Also, if you have never seen the film _Children of Men_, I highly recommend it. Thank you.


	2. Nothing Is As It Seems

..XX..

Chapter Two – Nothing Is As It Seems

"**I **would like to see you again," Chuck said, hours later as he stood at the foot of the bed, slowly getting dressed again though he wasn't particularly eager about doing so – especially since Blair was still lying in bed and still very much naked, not even bothering to hide her body underneath the covers.

Blair's eyes widened in surprise at that. "You would?" She asked.

No man had ever said that to her before. She didn't even know if seeing the same man twice was permitted. The issue had never arisen. After the morning they had just shared together, the idea of spending another one like it with Chuck excited her but she didn't know if she could.

She had had sex countless times already for being only eighteen-years-old. When she was thirteen and received her first period, her parents told her that she was a woman now and could start helping to aid to the human cause of trying to save the race from extinction. Sex had never been anything special to her. The men she shared her bed with began to blend into one another and nothing ever differentiated one man from the ones that came before him.

Sex, to Blair, was all about the basic mechanics and nothing more. In, out. In, out. Over and over again until the man ejaculated and emptied himself inside of her. There was nothing more to it than that.

Some men got aroused from different things. There had been one who tied her down to the bed while another had shown more interest in her feet than in any other part of her body. Some pulled hair, some choked her until she almost passed out. Others liked to talk exceptionally dirty while some hardly made any noise at all and as soon as they came in her body, they left.

Being sweet or tender or enjoying herself weren't necessary parts in trying to get pregnant. The men knew that and they did what they pleased with her. It was Blair's duty to fulfill their wishes. The harder they got, the more sperm they produced, increasing their chances of a possible successful tryst. Sex, to Blair, was pure science and had never been anything more.

But that morning, what she had just experienced with Chuck, it had never been like that for her. She had never felt anything like the fires that he had provoked from her. With Chuck, it felt as if it hadn't only been about him but he had cared about how she was feeling as well. He actually seemed to care if she had an orgasm and if she hadn't, he would work extra hard to give her one.

They had spent hours rolling around in her bed. Him on top, kissing her deeply as his hips moved back and forth, stroking her deeply, hitting parts inside of her body that no man had ever touched before. He would lay on his back and have her straddle him, letting her take over, her skin slapping against his as she bounced on top of him, crying out as he touched her, running his hands all over her body as if he was trying to memorize every inch of it.

Unlike the other men who focused solely on the mechanics like Blair did, Chuck hadn't gotten out of the bed as soon as he came. He stayed, touching her, kissing her, his fingers and mouth between her legs though pleasuring a woman was a completely useless endeavor. Everyone knew that and the moves were no longer practiced. Chuck though left her body shaking and burning though without any regard to himself. She had felt him put his full concentration on her and how she was feeling and she had never had that before.

_Of course_ she wanted to see him again.

"How often does your father set these appointments up for you?" He asked, sitting down on the side of the bed, close to her body, tugging on the boots he wore and then bending down to lace them up tightly.

"Once a week," Blair answered, still slightly shocked that he wanted to see her again.

He turned on the bed, facing her more, and reached out, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "I'll speak with your father and mother then. Do you want to see me again?"

Blair couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips and Chuck stared at her.

"What?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just… no man has ever asked what I wanted before. Before you anyway."

"Really?" He frowned.

"Well, nothing we do is really about me, is it?" Blair shrugged, sitting up. She wanted to touch him again but she didn't know if she was allowed to. She didn't know what he wanted – if he wanted her hands on him again.

A man could be two very different people – one while he was in bed and another while he was out of it.

Just because Chuck had been passionate between the sheets didn't mean that his behavior would continue now that he was dressed and ready to leave.

"It's not important for the woman to enjoy it," she further explained as he continued staring at her as if he didn't quite understand. "What matters is the man's arousal and the man's sperm and the man being able to cum inside of the woman. I can just lay there on my back and it wouldn't make a bit of difference."

That made him smirk, his fingers trailing down her cheek, down her throat and brushed across her bare shoulder. "I would be ashamed of myself if I couldn't pleasure a woman. Half of the fun today was hearing you call my name out." He paused. "Do you fake it often?"

"Not with you," Blair answered, giving him a faint smile and he smirked again. Blair realized that he didn't seem capable of producing a full, actual smile. The smirk of his lips was as close as he ever got.

She reached her fingers out, about to touch his lips but she stopped herself before she could, pulling her hand back. She avoided his eyes as he stared at her intently and she turned her head to look out the window. It was already past noon but the sun was still hiding behind the clouds. It looked as if it might start raining soon.

"What's it like out there?" Blair asked and Chuck floated his eyes lazily from off of her face towards the large windows.

She had an incredible view of what used to be the Upper East Side and he could imagine people decades earlier paying quite the pretty penny to live in this place.

"Horrible," he said quietly and from the corner of his eye, he saw her turn her head and looked back at him. "It's not safe out there. Not for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" She echoed.

He nodded. "Men would see a beautiful girl like you and even before all of this happened, men were always uncontrollable around a beautiful girl. Imagine how they would be now."

Blair stared at him for a moment and then a slight smile spread across her mouth. "I want to touch you," she informed him boldly and he stared at her, not saying anything in response but stretching his neck slightly as if offering his face to her.

She watched in fascination as Chuck's eyes slowly slid closed as her fingers brushed across his pale lips and then trailed up, brushing across his cheekbones. He had a scar above his left eyebrow and he stilled when she sat up a bit more and pressed her lips to it.

"Where did this come from?" She asked him, slowly raking her fingers through his already disheveled hair.

"There was a coffee shop bombing a couple months ago," he said, his eyes still closed. His breathing was slightly heavily and Blair knew men well enough to know that he was enjoying what she was doing to him. "Got hit with some flying metal."

She kissed the scar again and she felt his hands slid onto her hips, gripping her there tightly. "I hear about the bombings on the radio. There's already been three this month." She kissed his temple then dragged her lips down the side of his face near his ear. "Who does those things?"

"The government," Chuck answered, his voice sounding hoarse and Blair could feel an erection building in his jeans. "They bomb places to remind us who's in charge."

"You don't like the government," Blair said. It wasn't a question but a statement. She could hear the disdain in his tone when he spoke and over the years, Blair had become an expert at reading people and listening to the words they didn't say.

Chuck smirked. "No. I don't like the government. There are others like me out there who aren't mindless drones and go along with whatever they tell us. There are some who remember hearing how it used to be. People used to have freedom."

"Yes," she said, pulling back slightly so she could look at his face. Their eyes met. "But the world didn't used to be at all like it is now. There were babies. And hope. People are out there doing whatever they want because they think that there's no point in anything anymore. The government is just trying to keep us resembling something of a civilization so we don't all die like savages."

He was silent for a moment, appraising her, and Blair began to feel nervous. Perhaps she had spoken out of term. Men did not come to her for her to argue with them.

But then, a slow smirk spread across his lips. "I definitely want to see you again, Blair Waldorf," he said, squeezing her hips gently with his fingers. "I will go speak with your mother and make the appropriate arrangements right now."

She still could hardly believe that he actually wanted to do this again with her. "You mean that?" She asked softly, almost bracing herself for the realization that she had misunderstood him.

Chuck stared at her and then tugging on her hips, he captured her lips with his, giving her a hard, nearly bruising, kiss that made her moan into his mouth and silently ask for another one. She felt him kiss her over and over again, his mouth caressing hers, his tongue slowly tangling with hers, mimicking the actions his lower body had taken during their time together.

He lifted one hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her thick hair and she tilted her head to the side so he could kiss her deeper and she moaned louder.

"I changed my mind," he said, breathless, both of them panting for air.

Blair watched as he turned and took off his boots again and then yanked his shirt off. She smiled, still breathing heavily, her hands running down his bare chest.

"I want to see you right now," he said, before grabbing her and kissing her as hard as he could, rolling over, placing himself on his back and pulling Blair on top of him.

..XX..

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**N**ate Archibald leaned against the apartment building, his eyes moving silently over the street like a hunter, looking for any quick movements that would be cause for alarm. His hands were in the pockets of his dirty green army jacket, his right hand wrapped loosely around the handle of the gun he had concealed in there.

He had been standing out there for most of the morning but he did not move from his spot. He heard an alarm blare to his left, and turning his head sharply to see what it was, he saw that two people were looting a store, a brick being thrown through the front window, the glass shattering everywhere and the alarm whaling though what the point of having an alarm was, Nate didn't know. No one would come and stop the thieves.

Nate looked away, already uninterested, and continued watching the block closely.

Despite it being almost noon, the street was desolate and deserted. The asphalt, uncared for, was cracked and jutted upwards in some areas – no one around to take care of anything anymore. Cars were overturned or burned out wreckages. Many of the buildings were boarded up and tagged in colorful arrays of spray paint. Propaganda posters boasting support for the government and EmbryoFro – the main medical research center in charge of finding out what had happened to humans – were plastered on walls like wallpaper. A stray, mangling looking dog trotted down the middle of the street, stopping to sniff at a piece of wayward trash.

It was a typical day in New York City.

Hearing the door to the apartment building open, Nate pushed himself off the wall, seeing Chuck step out, slipping on his jacket.

"That took longer than I thought it would," Nate commented, reaching into the back of his pants and pulling out Chuck's gun that he had handed him before he went in.

Chuck nodded, taking his weapon back and looking upwards, towards the top floors of the building, a slight smirk on his face. "I'm surprised you waited," he said, looking back at his best friend.

Nate shrugged. "I told you I would. How was it?" He asked as they began walking down the street.

"Nathanial, a gentleman never says," Chuck said, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Dan called about an hour ago. The bread line was already six blocks long when he got there," Nate informed him. "He didn't know if he was going to be able to get us any today."

"There'll be another riot if they run out of food," Chuck said. He patted all of his pockets, searching for his cigarettes, successfully finding one – a rather smashed one – in the inside pocket of his jacket. "I suppose we could always eat the dog."

Both turned and looked over their shoulders, seeing the dog that was trotting after them. The animal was more bones than meat and wouldn't fill even one person's stomach.

With a laugh shared between them, Chuck and Nate made their way down the street, heading towards Midtown where the food lines though they probably wouldn't be eating that day.

..XX..

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A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews in regards to the first chapter. I was worried that no one would want to read this story just because it is such a different Chuck/Blair approach but I am really excited for it and I am glad a few of you are interested in it as well. Also, I probably should have mentioned that yes. Ed Westwick is in _Children of Men_ for about two minutes and he doesn't utter one word but he is in it if you want to see him. Please review this chapter for me and let me know if your interest is still being held. Thank you.


	3. Just Make Sure to Breathe

..XX..

Chapter Three – Just Make Sure to Breathe

**T**he entire city had lost power again. Blair had been in the middle of watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, her favorite movie, when the lights flickered once and then twice, struggling to stay on, before the entire room was bathed in complete darkness. Not even the moon was out that night to offer its light. The city was completely black.

Blair didn't panic. This happened at least once every week.

She slipped off of her bed and from memorization, she carefully made her way to her dresser across her room where she kept a collection of candles and a box of matches. Even from her bedroom high up in the building, she could hear a sudden round of gunfire, sharp pops that made her jump and echoed in her ears. No matter how many times she heard gunshots, she would never get used to it. The sharp sound always made her tense.

The violence was always the worst at night.

Chuck had come to visit her three more times and each time he came, after they were done after several strenuous hours and losing count of how many orgasms he gave her, they would lay in bed and he would tell her of what it was like outside.

There was no order anymore. It hadn't rained in almost two-hundred days and food was scarce. People were doing anything they could to survive though there wasn't much of anything to try and survive for anymore. The government handed out at-home suicide kits at any of their public facility buildings to anyone who wanted one. People were scared, lost, desperate. People were randomly attacked by others for no reason whatsoever except for the scary notion that there was nothing else to do.

"Blair, dear?" A soft knock came on her door. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, mother," she answered, carefully lighting the collection of candles on her dresser, hearing as Eleanor Waldorf stepped into the room. She didn't turn to look at her though.

"Chuck called. He would like to see you tonight," Eleanor said, going over to the bed and straightening the sheets and blankets, needing to do something with her hands.

Blair smiled to herself, her body instantly humming with anticipation, but when she finally turned towards her mother, her face showed a mask of indifference.

Chuck. She sometimes caught herself saying his name to herself. She couldn't believe how much she enjoyed her time spent with him. She had never experienced that before. Men were men and there had never been anything special about any of them. But Chuck was completely different in every single way. She couldn't wait until she saw him and each week passed torturously slow, the only time she felt happiness was when he stepped into her bedroom with that smirk on his lips and he kissed her in greeting.

She had been surprised when he had actually stayed true to his word and had spoken to her mother about seeing Blair again. And she had even been more surprised when her parents agreed. She hadn't thought that they would for some reason. Perhaps they thought that the more men she had sex with, the greater her chances were of getting pregnant.

She had no interest in other men though – not that she ever really had before. Men were always looked at as the necessary part in getting pregnant. In order for any chance of a baby being produced, men and their sperm were needed. And the women were necessary for their eggs and bodies to be home to the baby. Men and women needed one another even if Blair could have cared less about any of them.

Chuck was so different though. She could talk with him and he actually listened to her. He didn't brush her opinions or thoughts away as if they were meaningless and only his mattered. When he brought up a point and she felt differently, she told him and he would smile and debate with her.

He treated her like an equal. She had never had anyone do that for her before.

Butterflies flapped around in her stomach anxiously, hoping he would already be on his way. She couldn't wait to see him. Her routine now seemed to revolve around him and his presence. It scared her to feel such a desperate need to be around a person but Chuck Bass was completely addicting. He was the opium and she was eagerly, and willingly, chasing the dragon.

"You should be getting your period this week," Eleanor informed her, now fluffing one of the pillows.

Blair nodded. "Yes. Every twenty-eight days like clockwork."

"You've been seeing Chuck for a month now."

"Yes," Blair frowned, not knowing what her mother was getting at.

Eleanor had a way of bringing up a subject out of the blue that seemed innocent but quickly turned it into a crisis faster than Blair could usually react. Blair braced herself for what her mother would say next, not quite sure what she should be expecting.

"You have the pregnancy tests still?" Eleanor asked.

"Yes," Blair answered, preparing herself for what surely was to come. "But, mother, I'm not pregnant. Don't I… wouldn't I be throwing up in the mornings if I was?"

"Yes, and I'm not saying you are pregnant either, dear," she said with a smile that seemed cold in the darkly lit room, the shadows in the bedroom flickering across her face in the candlelight. "I'm just merely saying that you have been with Chuck for a month. And your period should be coming any day now."

She went around to the other side of the bed where Blair stood and kissed her forehead before turning and going to the door once again. Before she left though, she gave Blair a look over her shoulder.

"I think it would be best if this is the last time you spend with Mr. Bass. Clearly, nothing is going to come of it and it's time we move onto someone else," she said before stepping out into the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaving Blair alone in the room.

Her mother's words repeating over and over in her mind, Blair slowly sat down on the foot of the bed, feeling suddenly completely numb. The last time with Chuck? No, that couldn't be. She prayed that she had misheard. Her mother couldn't mean that.

Blair _needed_ to see Chuck. She needed to be with him.

She had never felt this before but she had seen enough romantic movies and had read enough books to be able to identify it. She had fallen completely and utterly for Chuck Bass. How was she supposed to stop seeing him now just when she had found him? In the entire mess of the world, they had found one another and Blair was now just expected to pass him off and move onto another.

She couldn't possibly do that. She needed him. She knew that he was the only reason she was feeling anything anymore. She had been so numb, so empty, going day in and day out, living by the same routine. He was her routine now and she couldn't lose that. She couldn't lose him.

A long high-pierced siren wailed down on the dark street below followed by more gunfire but Blair didn't hear any of it. She heard or saw nothing around her. For once, despite the kind of life she lived, Blair felt completely helpless. She always did exactly what her parents told her to do and she knew that if this was the last time they wanted Chuck coming by, she would never see him again after tonight.

"Hey," Chuck smiled, entering the bedroom and immediately closing and locking the door behind him. "I'm glad your parents let me see you. I was worried about you and the blackout," he said, going to her vanity and starting to remove his jacket and boots. "It's crazy out there right now. Someone lit a store on fire and-"

"Are you alright?" She asked, her voice soft, distant. She remained sitting on the bed, staring blankly ahead.

"I'm great now," he smirked, coming to sit down beside her. "I was thinking we could take a shower together. The building me, Nate and Dan are squatting in doesn't have running water and… Blair?"

He slipped an arm around her waist. Something was definitely wrong. She wouldn't even look at him. He frowned, slipping a hand onto her cheek and forcibly turning her head towards him, meeting her eyes with his.

"What?" He asked.

She stared at him for a silent passing moment and then shook her head slightly. "I'm not pregnant," she whispered. "If I was pregnant, I would be able to see you again."

"What?" He asked again, completely confused with her words. He shook his head slightly. "Blair-"

"This is the last time for us, Chuck. My parents won't let you come here anymore," Blair said, her voice starting to tremble. She actually couldn't remember the last time she had cried. It had been so long. "I've been with you for a month and nothing has come out of it-"

"How can you say that?" He interrupted, staring at her with hard eyes. "I think a lot has come out of this."

"Not what was supposed to," she said softly, shaking her head. "I'm not pregnant. And my parents feel that I need to move onto another."

"And you agree with them?" He demanded to know, standing up, feeling the anger starting to rise within him.

He saw tears brim her eyes but he couldn't get distracted. He had come there, so excited to be with her, and then, she threw him this curveball that smacked him right in the face. He didn't know what to do.

He went to the vanity and began yanking his boots and jacket back on angrily, feeling Blair watching him, not caring that she was.

"Because I can't get you pregnant then you just toss me aside like nothing has happened between us over the past month?" He said, his voice steadily growing louder. "You're just going to treat me like every other man you had before me?"

"Chuck," Blair said desperately, standing up. She reached out to grab his arm but he stepped away from her. She felt tears roll down her cheeks but she didn't brush them away. "My parents are making me do this. I don't want this with you to end."

He looked at her and a smirk slowly began to form across his lips. "Do you know what your so-called dear parents will do to you if you ever actually do get pregnant?" He asked, his eyes cold, staring into hers. "They will take you to EmbryoFro and you and your baby will belong to them."

"My father works for them…" Blair said.

"And you think that he will take care of you there?" He smirked, almost laughing, and rubbed his chin with his hand. He took a step towards her, standing so close to her that Blair had to tilt her chin up so she could keep looking into his face.

"They will take you and your baby and will poke and prod at you with every piece of medical equipment they have. They won't care if they're hurting you or the baby because all they care about is their precious science. And when they can't find their answers, when they can't explain why _you_, out of every other woman in the world, got pregnant, they'll kill you so they can examine you from the inside."

Blair felt an intense dryness in her mouth and she shook her head slightly. "I don't believe you. My father-"

"Has whored you out to any guy with a cock and an ability to cum," Chuck cut in.

Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and this time, she turned her head away from him, not wanting him to see her like that. She took a step away from him but he grabbed her arms, keeping her close to him. He squeezed his fingers around her arms but he didn't loosen his grip when he saw her flinch slightly.

"Remember this, Blair Waldorf because after I say this, I'm gone. I didn't treat you like your parents do. I didn't treat you like every other man before me. I never, _ever_ treated you like a whore because I thought you were something special."

He released her arms and then without giving her a second glance, he stormed from the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, so hard that it shook in its frame and Blair jumped from the sound of it.

Tears streamed down her face and she quickly went out around the bedroom, blowing the candles out, wanting to be in the dark. She didn't want to see any light surrounding her. It felt as if she had just been kicked in the stomach and she wanted the darkness to swallow her whole.

She curled up onto her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, and she let herself cry.

..XX..

* * *

**S**he had been throwing up for the past five mornings in a row. At first, she had just thought that she had been so upset with Chuck, that her stomach was bothering her. But on the fourth morning, as she quickly turned on the shower so her parents wouldn't hear her sickness over the running water, she knew, deep within herself that it was something else.

She had several boxes of pregnancy tests in the bottom drawer of her bathroom, her parents insisting that she take one every month even though she always got her period. They just wanted to make sure. Everything was about always about certainty.

Blair knew it was impossible. There was no way that she could be. Absolutely no way. She was just upset about Chuck. She was just stressed and that was a perfectly logical explanation for everything. Why she was a couple days late. Why she was throwing up every morning. It was because of Chuck. She had never been this upset before and that had to be the reason.

Her hands were shaking and she struggled for a moment to rip the box open. It was the most advanced test on the market and it would only take sixty seconds to know the results. After peeing on the stick and placing it on the bathroom counter however, sixty seconds seemed to last forever.

She didn't know why she was bothering. She wasn't pregnant. Humans were incapable of getting pregnant now and they were all going to die within the next seventy years. Scientists could do all they wanted but there would be no more babies. Blair knew that _she_ was not going to have a baby. She couldn't possibly. No one could have babies and she couldn't change that.

But when sixty seconds had passed, and the pink positive plus sign slowly appeared on the test, Blair stared at it only to throw herself down on her knees and throw up into the toilet again, heaving until there was nothing left. Still, she kept her head in the toilet bowl, panting heavily.

She blindly reached for the white plastic test strip and stared at it, the pink plus sign staring at her. The test was wrong. It had to be. It had to have suffered from a malfunction of sorts.

Out of all the women in the world, Blair Waldorf found it very hard to believe that she would be the first one in fifteen years to be pregnant.

..XX..

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A/N: Wow. I am both speechless and flattered with the response this story has gotten so far. I honestly did not think that anyone would like this story and I was so nervous about posting it but thank you a thousand times for those who have read and reviewed it so far for me. It really means so much to me. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thank you.


	4. Turn Off the Lights

..XX..

Chapter Four – Turn Off the Lights

_Five Months Later_

**T**he explosion was miles away but it still rocked the earth, rumbling the ground and shaking the buildings being supported by already unstable foundations.

It woke Chuck up from a deep sleep and he flew up into a sitting position, instantly alert and his hand naturally and instinctively reaching for the gun, which he slept next to every night. The explosion had been so strong that plaster from the ceiling above Chuck's head sprinkled down like weightless snowflakes.

Dan Humphrey was already up and awake, standing at the window and watching as police cars burst down the street below, their red and blue lights flashing and their sirens wailing. He always wondered what a thankless job that must be. And a useless one as well. No one cared about order anymore, or cared about maintaining it, so what good were police officers? The world was running wild and nothing could stop any of it – especially so-called policemen.

Each night, in whatever building they were squatting in, the three of them took turns staying up and keeping watch. Dan had had the third shift and he had already been awake when the building downtown had been bombed. He could see the black smoke swirling in a thick cloud into the sky above what remained of New York's skyline and he wondered what had been targeted that day.

"Same shit, different day," Dan said, as Chuck came up next to him, peering out the glassless window as well, both pairs of their eyes set on the smoke.

"Feels like the same day to me," Chuck murmured.

He rubbed a hand through his dark hair, wishing that the abandoned building they were staying in at the moment still had running water connected to the pipes. He could use a shower. The city had set up communal shower buildings for sanitary reasons but going to those places could sometimes be just as dangerous as walking down the street. People got attacked, mugged and sometimes even killed when all they were trying to do was wash themselves.

"We need to get something to eat," Dan said and Chuck nodded in agreement.

They hadn't been able to eat anything the day before and the last thing the trio needed was becoming weak due to malnutrition. Chuck Bass refused to starve to death or let his lack of food within his system hinder him weak in any situation.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and see how it is out there," Chuck said. "You and Nate pack everything up and meet me in ten minutes."

Dan nodded his head in agreement and the two turned to go off in their own direction – Dan to wake Nate up who was still sleeping on the floor and Chuck to leave the room that was once a rather expensive apartment on the Upper East side.

The walls were falling down around him, crumbling from neglect. The elevators stopped working long ago and the stairwell walls were covered in spray paint. The steps were even beginning to crumble underneath him as he made his way down the eight floors and his footsteps echoed in the hollow concrete shoot.

Everything was silent around him yet he kept his gun drawn, ready to be used if a situation arose. There was no such thing as being too careful nowadays and Chuck's eyes remained open and sharp on his surroundings.

The lobby of this particular building was beginning to be overtaken with foliage, plants sprouting up between the cracks in the floor and vines slowly creeping up the walls, a few already snaring around the chandelier still hanging from the ceiling. Most of the buildings were in much the same condition as this one was now. Building maintenance was the last thing anyone cared about, even in the Upper East Side, the section of the city that had once, many years ago, been the very picture of extreme wealth amongst the elusive elite.

There were still those around with money – government officials and scientists mostly – who lived in a couple of the buildings and Chuck instantly thought of Blair Waldorf, locked away in her tower like some sort of fairytale princess awaiting a bold knight to come and rescue her.

He wondered what she was doing that early in the morning, knowing that she would already be awake as well. When they had been together during their month's time, she had informed him all about her schedules and how she kept her body living by the clock or else, she feared for her sanity.

Despite his best efforts, Chuck also began thinking about all of the men who had occupied her bed since he had stopped coming to see her. Actually, he hadn't stopped. He had been told to not come anymore. Her parents saw no results from him and therefore, they had no more use for him.

He had run into Harold Waldorf completely by accident though what a man like Harold was doing, walking around on the streets, Chuck still didn't know. Harold had looked at him and asked, flat-out, if he was interested in engaging in sexual activities with his daughter in hopes of finding a cure to what was killing the human race. Chuck had been shocked though he knew that certain elitist families partook in such practices – selling their daughters off to scores of men just in case one of them held the key to ending all of this.

It had been good money and the job had been simple enough. Have sex with Harold Waldorf's daughter and get paid for it. It seemed as if it was going to be easy money. Money could buy food and Chuck, Nate and Dan were usually always hungry.

Like most things now though, the arrangement instantly became much more complicated when Chuck stepped into her bedroom and saw Blair for the first time. Beautiful wasn't even a word that did her justice. He wanted to see her again and again. She was smart, funny, gorgeous. The way she made him feel, he had never felt that from another person before. She made him feel good. She made him forget about the outside world for a few hours – which was something everyone needed.

It hadn't worked out between them – not that people were exactly in relationships with one another anymore. Chuck hadn't gotten her pregnant and that had been the entire purpose for them spending so much time together.

He had been furious when she had told him. He knew that there was something so much more between them than a simple exchange of bodily fluids. Blair knew it, too.

The world wasn't like that anymore. It couldn't be. Everyone was trying so desperately to survive and happiness and loving someone just didn't fit into that equation anymore. Love wasn't going to save anyone. Being happy with a person wasn't either. Not that Chuck loved Blair, he quickly corrected himself.

He had spent a month with her but falling in love with someone in that amount of time was impossible. Besides, Chuck had never loved anyone or anything in his entire life and he wasn't going to start with Blair Waldorf, a girl he hadn't seen in five months.

She lived in her high-rise tower, spreading her legs and letting men use her as if she was nothing more than a hole to jack their sperm into. Chuck knew better though. Blair was so much more than that. He wished he could see her again to tell her that.

The street was completely deserted and he figured that most people had gone to see what the explosion had been about. Bombings that month were at an all-time high, the city averaging about two per week. The world was slipping further and further into darkness and Chuck couldn't imagine how anyone was going to survive the next seventy years.

He wondered who the last person on earth was going to be.

Someone had spray painted on the outside wall of the building they were staying in, _"__Will the Last Person to Die Please Turn Out the Lights?__"_

This was how the world was going to end. Not with a nuclear holocaust or an asteroid hurling towards the earth. It was going to end slowly, bit by bit. People were going to die one by one, not annihilated in a massive heap, all with terror and none with hope.

He imagined Blair up in her bedroom, seeing nothing more of the world than what she could from her window. It was best if she didn't see any of what everything had become. It would be better if she stayed up there, watching her romance movies and reading her delusional books and having sex with the random men her father brought her.

That was the only part of her life that was soiled; the only part of her that was touched by this darkness and despair in the world below.

"What do you think it was?" Nate asked as he and Dan stepped outside from the building, their packs securely on their backs.

All three turned their heads to see the black smoke still swirling in the air off in the distance.

"We should head over to Rufus' place," Dan suggested, not answering Nate's question. It really didn't matter what the explosion had been from. "Maybe he'll have some extra food for us today."

Rufus Humphrey was Dan's father – a retired musician who mostly lived in seclusion in his barricade of a home in Brooklyn. An aging hippie with his memories still vivid of how the world used to be, he helped the three boys as much as he could whenever they made the trek from Manhattan to come and see him. It usually took them all day for them to get to him with public transportation less than reliable and if they were going to go, they had to start as early as possible.

Chuck and Nate simply nodded their heads and together, the three young men began walking down the empty street.

The sky above them was grey and overcast as it usually was but that didn't mean that rain was going to be coming. It hadn't rained in a year and it wasn't going to start that day. The drought seemed to be worldwide for fresh food was no longer being sent into the cities from the farms.

No fruits or vegetables. No milk, cheese or bread. Everything consumed now was manufactured and bought in can form. And since most of the remaining humans didn't have microwaves or stoves, anything bought in a can could be consumed without cooking.

Chuck still remembered when he had been younger. His stepmother, Lily, loved fresh fruit and every morning, for Chuck and his stepsiblings, Serena and Erik, she would make them steaming bowls of oatmeal always topped with strawberries or blueberries or raspberries. He remembered breads and soups for lunch and huge pieces of beef and steak for dinner.

No one had had meat for so long. Not only did they have extinction to look forward to, but they always had malnutrition to suffer through first.

"Mr. Chuck?" A woman's thick accent spoke up behind him and Chuck instantly swirled around, his gun drawn and held aimed in front of him.

The slightly heavy older woman widened her eyes and held her hands up as if surrendering but Chuck instantly recognized her from all of the times he had gone to visit Blair. The Waldorf maid. Leave it to the rich and elite to still have hired help working for them.

"Dorota," he said then signaled to Dan and Nate to put down their guns which they had also drawn upon hearing someone come up behind them.

"You remember," Dorota said, a slight relief in her eyes though she was still tense.

"What are you doing out here?" Chuck frowned then looked over her shoulder as if he expected Blair to be with her.

The thought, of course, was ludicrous.

"I have been looking for you for months," she said, her eyes still shifting nervously to all three men and the guns hanging down at their sides. "Ms. Blair needs you."

Chuck took a step forward immediately towards her upon hearing that name escape past her lips. "What's wrong? Is Blair alright?"

Dorota looked at him as if she wasn't sure how to answer the question. She opened her mouth then closed to again, taking a step back away from him.

"Come. I take you to her now," she said.

"What?" Chuck frowned. "I'm not allowed to see her anymore. _She_ doesn't want to see me."

"Ms. Blair is no longer living with her parents. She left nearly four months ago."

Chuck felt his heart pound in his chest. What did that mean? She was no longer living in her parents' apartment? With their safety and barricaded lobby? Where was she?

All of this time, Chuck had been able to get through every day with the belief that Blair was safe. Now, that didn't seem to be the case and his stomach twisted.

"Mr. Chuck, I must really take you to see her. She needs you," Dorota said then looked at Nate and Dan. "You must come alone."

Chuck stared at her for a moment. There were a million things he wanted to ask. Blair had obviously sent Dorota to come and find him but where was Blair? Why had she left home? Why did she need him after all of this time? It had been five months. What had happened to her?

He slowly looked at Nate and Dan. "I'll meet you both at Rufus' place," he said. "I'm going to go and see Blair."

Nate opened his mouth to protest but Dan jumped in with a nod of his head.

"We'll be there until tomorrow night. If you don't show up…" he glanced at Dorota before back at Chuck. "We're coming to find you."

Chuck nodded and quickly exchanged hand slaps with both of them before looking at Dorota. "Where's Blair?"

..XX..

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A/N: To everyone who celebrates, I hope you had a marvelous Thanksgiving weekend. Life has gotten kind of hectic but I am still so flattered by the attention this story is getting. I am glad some of you love it. Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter. Coming up, Blair and Chuck are reunited once again.


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